Add me to the short list of people who've watched Synecdoche, New York and walked away with a feeling of slight reverence. Elevated, somehow. Sober is a word that comes to mind. A sobering experience, perhaps, somehow. To those open to it Kaufman presents a dramatic punch to perception of life and what it is to live.
It's not my favorite Kaufman movie (yet), or one I'd really feel comfortable recommending to anyone. It's a very hard film to swallow, and I was fighting against it for the first half until I began to see what he was trying to do with the film. By the end when some of the many layers of meaning that Kaufman folded into the story begin to reveal themselves, I was wanting to talk to someone about all the different ideas about life, death, identity, art and truth that had been opened up in my head, but since nobody here appreciates this type of movie I was watching it by myself half an hour into it.
I'm glad I finally got to see it and while on one hand I can't wait to see it again to unlock more of Kaufmans thought process, I will need a while to before I can revisit this story that seemingly, right now, to me, has incredibly powerful message that rings with tones of loneliness, futility, meaninglessness, hopelessness, mortality, pain, dispair, abandonment, corrosion. All that good stuff. I'm still processing it. What I can say is that the glass here isn't half empty even if it seems so by how I try to describe it. What is inside this glass doesn't pull punches, is all. This movie is said to be way out there. Crazy, insane, pretentious. A trip. While it hides it's meaning and messages in metaphors and symbolism, in imagery and allegory, in acts seemingly bizarre and hard to understand or follow initially, ultimately I found it much too real for comfort. The very opposite of an escape of reality. If this movie paints a picture it does so with paint remover and a steel wool brush.
Hm...
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"
It's not my favorite Kaufman movie (yet), or one I'd really feel comfortable recommending to anyone. It's a very hard film to swallow, and I was fighting against it for the first half until I began to see what he was trying to do with the film. By the end when some of the many layers of meaning that Kaufman folded into the story begin to reveal themselves, I was wanting to talk to someone about all the different ideas about life, death, identity, art and truth that had been opened up in my head, but since nobody here appreciates this type of movie I was watching it by myself half an hour into it.
I'm glad I finally got to see it and while on one hand I can't wait to see it again to unlock more of Kaufmans thought process, I will need a while to before I can revisit this story that seemingly, right now, to me, has incredibly powerful message that rings with tones of loneliness, futility, meaninglessness, hopelessness, mortality, pain, dispair, abandonment, corrosion. All that good stuff. I'm still processing it. What I can say is that the glass here isn't half empty even if it seems so by how I try to describe it. What is inside this glass doesn't pull punches, is all. This movie is said to be way out there. Crazy, insane, pretentious. A trip. While it hides it's meaning and messages in metaphors and symbolism, in imagery and allegory, in acts seemingly bizarre and hard to understand or follow initially, ultimately I found it much too real for comfort. The very opposite of an escape of reality. If this movie paints a picture it does so with paint remover and a steel wool brush.
Hm...
"Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"
